Maria Rosa: quarantine diary

Maria Rosa: quarantine diary is a contemplation on the imposed isolation and forbidden movement that has befallen us. The project is a proposal to defer grand theoretical and purportedly prophetic thought on the future and take a closer, though by no means nostalgic, look at what there is and at our relation to what there was: presence and absence are at its core. The past is abysmal and infinitely mysterious and holds many of the keys to our present. The project is initially based, on the one hand, on recordings of everyday sounds that acquire a new life under conditions of increased silence, and on the other hand, on a stack of old post-cards that I found in the house where I live, and which were addressed to a certain Maria Rosa. In a second phase that in the end extends after Easter, it includes sounds and writings of the present sent by friends to Maria Rosa. A third phase recounts Maria Rosa’s dreams on a separate page.

∗ Athens, 7.5. 1996 Maria Rosa, do you remember our visit to Lazaro Galdiano? Referring to our conversation back then, I would like to add the following: whether these are Grecos or not, I believe the issue to be what kind of knowledge these works produce or what they move in us (as Pathosformel). Many kisses, Juan.

sparrows, in their particular combination with the song of other birds that I cannot identify, a man who whistles (badly) the Four Seasons, a wash clip falling and hitting the cords of the wash-trays on three floors, a child that protests ‘oh maaaaaan….’. Far away, an electronic version of Camela, another child, smaller, that whines, a cuckoo, or whatever the bird that does ‘cuckoo cuckoo’ is called, a washing machine, a radio, a tool. A shutter that goes down and another one that goes up, a door that suddenly shuts because of a draft, and the windows, which are not well fitted in the frame, trembling when the door shuts, somebody coughs. A vacuum cleaner, more wash clips, those of the neigbour who puts her clothes to dry, the somewhat forced laughter of a man, the crac crac of dishes in a kitchen (all this is what I hear from the courtyard of my childhood, where I have returned because of this crazy lockdown). We miss you, Just

∗ Dear Maria Rosa, I make use of the lockdown to put some order in old, forgotten paintings. I send you one that I painted a long time ago. As soon as they let me, I will return to Spain. I hope soon to be able to visit you in Barcelona. A hug, Sofonisba, Roma, 20.04.1560

∗ Address in Argentina. I send you earth from a nearby park and some seeds that you can plant in your garden. They are part of my gift of your birthday. ….I hope you have….it has started bein colder. Kisses, Lola.

∗ Benefitting from the days of isolation in order to clean, we have found this photo coming from an unknown or forgotten place. The image according to the text accompanying it is of a very adequate Christ of Patience. A hug to all, Carlos.

∗We are here. It´s not as beautiful as I imagined, but it´s not bad. Of course, coming from Galicia everything seems ugly. As for entertainment…it´s not Alicante, but things are going better. We had a barbecue and ¡brace yourself! there was a beauty contest and I was one of the 10 selected. Don´t laugh, I can see you. I didn´t win but I stuck with it. I´ll tell you about it. Till soon, Maribel